Insanity Has a Name
by Black.as.Gold
Summary: Tom is depressed about Quatermain's death and travels to Africa, but has a unfortunate incident with a witch causing unexpected results... Rating due to the chapters to come (RR no flames).
1. Default Chapter

Insanity has a Name

They said Africa would never allow him to die. My only question to them would be, "Then why is he dead?" Every time that thought pattered its way across my brain, a deep rage filled my mind, body, and soul. That rage would always quickly dissipate in to the most profound sadness that often fear my heart would break in two.

Each day I move on hoping that I'll see him walk through his door. His regular brassy self going up to practice his long range shots. As time passes since his death I find myself thinking more and more about him. Quatermain. How I hate saying his name. It makes the whole in my chest feel as though it will never stop growing.

The League is beginning to sense something is wrong. I start to snap at them more often for reasons beyond their control. Also I have become reckless in the quests we take, making more risk than necessary almost as if I want to die. Maybe I do, after all I suppose I would see him again, wouldn't I?

Eventually I asked the League for time away from them to think things over. They complied to my wishes, and dropped my off in Africa. I had to pay my respects again to my beloved mentor and father figure.

Walking down the dusty road to the little village where he lived I passed and old woman who was sitting on porch that looked like it would collapse in a heartbeat with more weight on it. I was almost past her she called out to me.

"Come here young one, you seek an answer, but you will only receive more questions,"

I didn't know what to think of this weird lady so I tried to continue on but she gripped my wrist and muttered a few words in some foreign language I couldn't comprehend, some words I caught like confusion or world, but it seemed like gibberish so I passed it off as nothing. Pulling my hand away, one of her nails dug in forming a shallow cut. A little blood welled up in the cut and I pulledmy hand away harder. The lady released my hand but I took a tumble down the stairs I just clambered up.

I stood up and glared at the lady, while brushing my self off, I then continued down the road while scraping together all the dignity I could muster. Stopping when I passed what could only be Quatermain's house. Or old house anyways. I decided to check it out, see if I could learn any more about the great hero.

Walking up the steps to the door I hesitated with my hand hovering over the doorknob. It felt like I was about to enter into a house that a person was currently residing in, but Quatermain was dead so that's impossible. So I shrugged it off, passing it off to the heat of day rather that my little voice in my head, then connected with the doorknob.

Change in the POV

The old lady smiled wryly, then taking the blood from her finger nail she created a shallow design on her own wrist while repeating the phrase she said earlier, "su mundo pasará en la confusión cuando sus pensamientos no son más su propio, pero compartido, pero un candidato improbable."

A flash blinded Tom, and he fell backwards once again landing on his rear.

When he sat up a few minutes later he had an agonizing headache. "What the hell was that," He muttered to himself. What surprised him even more was when some very angry voice answered him.

"WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING HERE AND WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!"

Tom leaped so high in the air looking around for the source, but he could find none. The voice seemed familiar but the owner of it was never angry, sarcastic, sadistic and manipulative, for sure but never angry.

One question raced around Tom's head like lightening, "What the bloody hell was Dorian Gray doing in his head?"

TBC…

Translation : your world shall pass into confusion as your thoughts are no longer your own but shared but an unlikely candidate.

A/N – reviews would be much appreciated, be CONSRUCTIVE! I have decided to do a longer fic thanks to reviews so if it is to be continued then review with ideas on how to improve or with plot ideas… This just came to me about 1hr ago and I ran with it and this is what the result was.

Black As Gold


	2. Chapter 2

A/N – Since I was so brilliant and didn't actually write out any form of a plot line, here's another chapter, thanks to Spellcaster Hikaru. Now let the story commence…after disclaimers of course…

Disclaimer – im pore, I cant spel goode, do you really think I created a movie or anything that would have been able to give me a boat load of cash? I don't think so…

Henry Jekyll had a bad feeling about something, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly. A gut instinct, one could say. "I hope we made the right decision, leaving Tom in Africa."

Mina Harker, resident chemist and vampire of course, glanced up from her current work with a questioning look upon her face, "What ever do you mean Doctor?"

"Well I just don't know how smart it was leaving Tom alone in Africa when something seemed to be off. I know you all know how strange he'd been acting since…"

"He'll a grown man Doctor, he can take care of himself, we have no need to worry. When he is ready we will return to him and he will be his just old self again, he just needs some time to accept Quatermain's death." Captain Nemo responded in an absolute tone.

"Besides, how much trouble can one chap get into all by his lonesome, give the guy some credit," Skinner flippantly added.

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"Why me?" Tom Sawyer was currently praying to any god who would care to listen.

"What do you mean, why you, I'm the one who has to suffer through this torture of your complaining and moping. And Sawyer, I've been through your memories and you have no one to blame but you yourself. Honestly, its your fault that Quatermain died, you were stupid enough to get caught, and well, I'm sure you know the story."

"Shut the hell up Gray, you have no idea what your talking about. It's not my fault, so don't twist the story of what happened."

"Who's twisting? You think its Skinner, its obviously not, said invisible person holds knife to your throat, Quatermain saves your sorry ass, and now he's dead and your not, now please tell me that it is not your fault. Oh, and don't forget that due to your underlying guilt over the death that you caused to your only father figure, correct me if I am wrong in calling him that, that I have the unfortunate pleasure of being trapped in the little head of the stupendously stupid, inconceivably dull Tom Sawyer, now tell me how that is not YOUR FAULT."

"I told you to SHUT UP so I can concentrate on removing your snarky ass from my mind."

"I will not shut-up over something that is your fault till you fix this problem and return me to my former status, or better yet, my former body so I can destroy you for all the crap I'm going through right now."

With that final statement Sawyer's body flew upright from his previously sitting position.

"Wha- what did you do Gray" Sawyer glancing around himself looking for a reason as to what just happened.

"I do believe that this situation may be working to my advantage Agent Sawyer."

"What the hell do you mean?"

"Oh, you will find out eventually, my regrettable companion" Gray whispered softly in Sawyers mind before going silent.

"Gray? GRAY! Answer me, what are you talking about?"

A/N – I was going to keep going but it just seemed to end here… I don't know, but I will hopefully update sooner than a year or two… sorry about that…. But don't flame me over it, I'm sorry as it is… and I am aware that people probably don't speak Spanish in Africa, but that's the language I thought of at the time, and I apologize for anyone who doesn't like that idea… but any ways R/R

Luv ya all

Black as Gold


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, this is just a short little ditty while I work on the plot line. At least it's not taking over a year this time!

Disclaimer – I don't own anything even remotely related to LXG…. Except the movie…

Chapter 3 The Plot Thickens…

_Deep inside Tom's mind…_

Quiet filled Tom's mind at the moment for deep within his head was an entity, pondering some, may recent events. Dorian was floating in a sea of bliss, both literally and metaphorically. Something pushed Sawyer off the edge, and gave him, Dorian Gray control; it was as though him and Sawyer had switched places with him in control and Sawyer in the back round. As a gentleman, he did not appreciate the sheer callousness of this body; overall it would be satisfactory for the time being. For Sawyer had something that Dorian would be unable to reach in his own body, the trust of the League. His dreams of revenge would finally come in to the light and the league would fall and he would come out on top. All he needed was patience, which luckily, Dorian has in spades.


End file.
